


pelargonium x hortorum

by royalblade



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cannon compliant, FREE BOOK INSIDE (check notes), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Sparring, Spoilers for Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), alcohol consumption, almost enemies to lovers, be warned lol, bed sharing, faith + reason mortal savant felix aka BEST CLASS, hanahaki, i make the assumption that Faerghus is a russian allegory, mentally ill chatacters, spoilers for the BL route, they don’t rly get along lol, this started as venting, violent nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 16:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20603504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/royalblade/pseuds/royalblade
Summary: Felix looked the boar up and down; he was dressed down in the night, but still wearing that ridiculous cloak. He looked nervous, an unexpected expression on his cold face. Felix’s fingers itched to touch him, to hold his face, stroke his hair, like in one of the inane dreams he would have on dark nights. He blinked, and tried to remember what he knew. Just another example of the monster playing human.Fraldarddyd Hanahaki AU





	1. before.

**Author's Note:**

> In the _Language Of Flowers_(1884) by Kate Greenaway, scarlet geraniums were ascribed to mean comfort and stupidity.__

Back at Garreg Mach and Felix found himself where he always had five years ago.

The training grounds had gathered greenery, deep cracks in the mortar boasted slivers of green and red geraniums. The training dummies had begun to rot away, but Felix still found a use for them with his blade. 

He spent the first fifteen minutes back slicing up a dummy into as many hits as he could. Shredding it down into mushy straw and rotting burlap. Then he kicked away the pieces and took up a training sword. It had rusted in its misuse, but the hilt was still study and the blade was still whole. 

Despite his uneasiness he fell into his katas with ease. Side strike here, a frontal there, over the head, and then in and back again. Repetitive rhythmic motions soothed him, his feet fell into their familiar patterns, wearing familiar groves in the stone.

The air was thin and tasted like dust on his tongue, nature had begun to reclaim the monastery; flowers growing up through the stonework, trees taking root through windows, animals nesting under rotting desks. In a way he was sad about his former academy falling to ruin, but the animal life, the peaking flowers, the crawling vines running through each room made the monastery feel more peaceful and sacred than any reflective marble floor had five years ago. 

Felix sensed it before he heard it, a presence. He turned his head and was unsurprised to see the boar standing in the doorway, his one eye dark and glowering. His appearance still gave Felix a small start, even after seeing him in the battle before. The boar had grown taller, wilder, more befitting of his nature: animalistic and raw.

They stared at each other from across the training all, both quiet. 

Felix wasn’t sure how to approach this version of Dimitri. He sensed that he had lost the knowledge to deal with him, where to push and prod, where it was safe to push and prod. He used to know the boar well, better than he knew himself, or his father, especially better than he knew his brother. 

But now there is a stranger standing before him, a predator, with sharpened claws. One who has been pinned down and cornered. An animal liable to lash out.

So Felix crossed the room to the weapons rack. The boar’s one eye follows him, but he is otherwise still. Felix selected a training sword, one that the boar would have liked, nigh 5 years ago, and tossed it to him.

He caught it easily, and inspected the blade, as if confused. Felix stepped back into the pit and held his blade aloft, pointing it at his chest. 

“Lets see how much skill you’ve lost over these past years, boar.” Wiithout another word, Felix leaped into action, striking hard and fast. The boar blocked his overhead strike, motion large, but quick, and just barely in time. He snarled and ducked low against a side cut, and parried Felix’s third strike with surprising force.

Felix remained on the offensive for another couple blows, before the boar suddenly swung wide and heavy at his side. He moved to deflect the blade but stumbled as it hit him with significantly more force than he had suspected. Dimitri swiped up and then back down again, heavy handed and rough. Felix just barely rolled out of the way and leaped to his feet once more. They stared at each other for but a second before Felix struck once more.

Fighting with the boar was familiar and strange, he saw the familiar movements, the footwork, the sweep of the wrist.... A combat technique he had studied for years, watching for, sparing with ,fighting against. A technique he had grown up alongside with. 

But the boar’s movements were heavy and degraded. Dry-rotted with misuse. It was easy to see how he had changed from a classical style to something tougher and more powerful. Truly a beast, surviving on raw strength and stamina alone.

And if that was really the case then he would need to know the boar’s ins and outs again. He would need to relearn the tendencies and behaviors and mannerisms that he had grown apart from, so that when the time came, he would know that he would have the power to strike down the boar, once and for all.

If necessary of course. 

Clashing his blade with such unadulterated strength was refreshing, nothing compared to the boar’s strength, and no fighter in Faldarius territory gave Felix the same rush as Dimitri’s incredible power. But that’s all it was, power. No match for two decades of pure skill. Felix feinted a head strike, and as the boar retaliated with a dodge and side strike, he slipped in close and pushed the blade beneath his throat. 

The boar apparently still had enough domesticity left in him to know when he had won or lost, because even as he glared he slowly lowered his training blade. 

“You two!” Felix winced as he heard a familiar voice.

“Fighting? Right after a major battle?” Professor Byleth had not changed in any of their time away, still strong, young, and bearing painfully bright green hair. “I would have hoped you both would have grown out of your squabbles.”

Felix lowered his weapon and stepped away, Professor Byleth may have been dead for many years, but they had still learned a respect that Felix would not discard lightly. 

The Professor sighed, and shook their head, “Dimitri, I need you with me.”

Without further ado they turned and began to walk away, as if not realizing the boar wasn’t no longer the sedated lapdog of the past.

The boar watched the professor for a moment before beginning to follow suit. Felix had a jab on the tip of his tongue, but let it pass as he watched Dimitri leave, great cloak swaying gently at his steps. Something about the Boar unnerved him terribly, it wasn’t the violence or the ferality, that he had seen countless times. Rather something lingered in Dimitri’s one eye, a fidgeting restlessness, a paranoia that made Felix’s finger tips twitch, made him nervous and on edge. 

Felix put away his and the boar’s training swords and took one last look at the training hall laced with green and geraniums, before he turned and left, trying to push his anxieties away. 

——

Where he remembered camaraderie there was empty, and even as the Church of Seiros’s ranks began to join the Kingdom Army, it did nothing to fill up what was once a lively temple to the Goddess

So Felix passed the time the way he always used to. He ate alone, trained, and helped pick up rubble. He would arrange the boxes Annette asked him to, and water the flowers that Mercedes pointed out. He would help Ingrid count supplies and drag Sylvain to meetings when he was late.

He would watch Dimitri wail in the cathedral late into the night and he would stare at the not-dead professor across courtyards. He passed the time, and waited to move into the action promised by Professor Byleth and Seteth. 

——

The world is bright and cold, but Felix is hot beneath his leathers. 

His blade glints like the snow beneath his feet, perfect and gleaming in the morning sun. 

He spins his blade effortlessly, and it moves without resistance, sliding through flesh and bone, building a tower of corpses around his feet. 

He’s only fighting animals. wild beasts. And he reminds himself of that as he cuts down bears, wolves, and lynx. He slices through another dappled pelt, and light sprays out, silver and gleaming, he shuts his eyes against the spray, and feels the wet coating his chin and lips. 

The gleaming bright slides his blade, pooling around his hands at the cross guards, and slipping down his face like streaks of gleaming tears. Another body is added to the pile, and beneath him the snow begins to melt. Felix had the urge to send away the sun, it was adding at the light at his feet, on his heads, on his face. A creeping uneasiness began to crawl over his mind, marching slowly and coloring the world sour. 

Felix tried to move his feet, to shift his stance, to flee, but the snowmelt was refreezing, anchoring him in place. He grunted as he tried to move, looked down at his feet to see icy light crawling up his legs and assimilating his feet in the snow below. 

A sudden pain made him cry out he glanced down at one of the beasts, claws sunk into his arm and growling. He hissed and swung his sword, another burst of light splayed out and the beast fell. Felix could see scarlet red down to the bone, he could feel himself dripping to mix with the light, flesh and blood and shards of bones. He pressed the arm to his chest and tried to breathe through the pain, eyes on his surroundings again as the snow gleamed and the sun shone and his flesh dropped away in chunks.

And then he sees it; the king of beasts --and he knows it as such intrinsically. A great boar emerges from the wood. It is scarred and black as pitch, arrows stuck out of its back, tusks grown so long they curled back into its skull again. A testament to its survival, and its much awaited death.

As the boar began to charge Felix readied his steel, and let out a yell as he thrust his sword forward. He felt the blade connect, thick and heavy, he pushed it cleanly though, and the world dimed rapidly as if the sun had gone out, and all that shone was the light pooled around his feet.

Felix could barely see in the sudden darkness, but he could feel a hand reach up and grab his wrist. Human and weak.

\--a weak gasp, and then he falls to his knees before Felix, and Felix already knows who it is. He stared at Dimitri, shadowy in the dim light. He was hunched over on his knees and bleeding red red red. Tt trailed down his chest and ran in rivlets down Felix’s blade. It coated Felix’s hands as he tries to drop the blade, but his grip remains steadfast on the blade. 

Dimitri’s blood mixed with the light at Felix’s feet and turned the murder into a crimson spectacle. Felix tried to pull out the blade, but it stuck, scraping against Dimitri’s ribs and lodged in his heart. He gasps wet and strangled, and tilts his head up to look at Felix; his eyes are sad, heartbroken. Felix would have felt better if they were anything else, betrayed, hateful, empty, or enraged, but the simple look of overwhelming sadness pierced right into his heart, and as Dimitri opened his mouth, lips forming the ghosts of words, the light went out in his eyes. 

And the world went dark.

Felix awoke cold and sweating. His blanket had fallen off some time in the night, and a fire still glimmered on his candle beside his bedside. He reached over with shaky hands and extinguished the flame. The threads of his nightmare began to unravel in his mind as he tried to catch his breath, a painful twinge in his chest made him wince, and he pressed a hand tightly to his chest, feeling his racing heartbeat beneath.

——

They spar often these days. It’s an ugly, brutal thing, of course Felix isn’t truly trying to kill the boar, but he’s not quite sure when the boar will finally snap and take up a sharp weapon, so he finds it best to have no prefaces. 

Felix needs something to let out his anger, his rage at the circumstances. He likes knowing he can beat the boar if he must. If ever fails to score a win all day it means he’s far too weak to put down the boar should the occasion arise.

The boar needs it to sharpen his claws, wear down his tusks. When left to his own devices he grew antsy, stalking the woods for something to kill, wailing in the cathedral for long dead faces, piercing his own skull with overgrown tusks. 

Sometimes Felix needed to see his rage, his hate, thet monstrosity in his eye, in order to not forget what the boar was capable of, not to fall prey to pity and let his guard down. The boar needed something to hit, and Felix was not so fragile as to break. 

But that didn’t mean he always won.

Felix spun his blade, eager to secure his win against a nearly beaten opponent. 

The boar was wincing from a hard wack, and so Felix takes the momentary hesitance to hit him again, this time the boar reacts too late, his sword arm doesn’t go high enough fast enough, and Felix’s practice blade connects with Dimitri’s arm with a dull thud. 

The boar hisses, retreating in on himself, Felix grinned and made a final strike to reach the boar’s stomach and end the fight. He stopped suddenly in his movement, and realized as he heard the cracking of splintering wood that the boar had caught the blade,  _ and broke it. _

Felix quickly let go and jumped back, lest his hand also got caught in the boar’s path of destruction. The boar lunged for him, blade pointed out, and Felix knew the kind of damage that strength could do with even a blunt weapon.

He cursed as he dodged to the side,  _ weak, sloppy, how did you not notice him- _

The boar’s blade connected with his side and he grunted as pain spiked through his torso, he dodged the next strike and threw a punch, Felix felt the boar’s fine facial structure give beneath his hands and grinned even as he was forced to jump back close to the wall. 

The boar advanced steadily, and Felix ducked to dodge beneath his outstreached sword arm, but suddenly he was caught by the front of his tunic. 

Pain bloomed in the back of his skull, and it took a moment for his vision to clear of blackness and color, and another for him to register Dimitri’s arm pressing him to the wall, his hand pressing hard against this shoulder, making numbness began to spread through the limb. 

Felix winced, and forced himself to keep his eyes open, Dimitri was scowling, when had Dimitri dropped his blade? Sloppy. 

Dimitri leaned in closer, pain gathering in his ribs as he pressed, “Yield.” 

His eye was dark, annoyed, and Felix found himself caught in the dark bruises beginning to blossom on Dimitir’s pale face. 

“Couldn’t win without resorting to cheap tricks, huh boar?” Felix ground out, struggling to breathe under Dimitiri’s weight, Dimtiri seemed to press even harder, and Felix felt his head go light. 

A sudden cough made Dimitir flinch, and Felix’s chest began to burn as he coughed and choked on some invisible threat,

“Weak.”

Felix felt the pressure on his chest relieve, and he slid down the wall, but he couldn’t seem to catch his breath, wheezing and coughing. It was like a presence within his chest was pressing on the inside of his lungs and throat. By the time the sensation left him, Felix found his chest aching and the training hall empty. 

His mouth tasted metallic. 

——

Bandits are at the monastery again. Felix wished the rumors about Dimitri’s beastliness would spread quicker. It would save them energy and manpower when they needed to be planning the campaign to end the empire and take back Faerghus. 

The bandits die easily enough though, his sword swiping through them clean and easy. Felix feels nothing but unease under the evening sky

Out of the corner of his eye he watched Dimitri move, vicious, and heavy handed; something about him is ineffable, he’s like a force of nature, an unstoppable object. Felix knew he needed to watch his own back, but still an unease wormed its way through his skin, he wanted to watch Dimitri, know he was still there, still safe physically. Even if his mind is gone. 

The boar has survived worse than this, he reasoned, and so he tried to put it out of his mind. 

——

The sky is a bloody red, and the orange sun gleams across his blade, glints of light shine through sprays of blood as Felix cuts down his opposition. 

They are the bandits from earlier, all shoddy armor and dull blades. Beneath his feet bones crunch, blood oozes, bodies lay. Layered, piled, tumbled down from above, a sea of corpses and death. Felix feels his blade pass through a throat, blood spurts as the bandit falls to his knees, and Felix doesn’t look back; setting off to search for new enemies. 

Red is the ground beneath, small clusters of geraniums poke through the sea of bodies, Felix’s feet nudge and trample and share space with them. Half the bodies look familiar, a nose, a hair color, a facial structure or a pair of hands. Glimpses of familiarity on a stranger’s form.

He sees familiarity in pale skin and blond hair, in black and blue, and then he realizes the body  _ is _ familiar. More than familiar: loved. 

Felix carefully turns the body body, and it is Dimitri, because it always has to be. There was blood painting his hair, and horror begins to unravel in Felix’s belly as he realizes how grievously wounded Dimitri is.

A small movement catches his eye, and he realizes with a jolt that Dimitri is alive. Breathing shallowly, eyes flickering, skin grey, but alive. Countless gashes and arrows stick out of him, his shoulders, his chest, his arms. 

Felix kneels down, pushes some of his hair away from his eyes.  _ It’s all this hairs fault _ , he thinks absurdly, if his hair was more suited for combat perhaps he would have not been injured.

Felix rests his hand against Dimitri’s cheek, too pale and too cold. A feeble hand reaches up to clasp his wrist, and Dimitri’s hazy eyes focus on him.

“Feliya,” he rasps, and the nickname makes Felix’s heart twist, he thinks of when they were children, before all this blood and death and ghosts haunting halls.

“You’re not going to die,” Felix murmurs, and then says again, louder, in case Dimitri hadn’t heard him over his life spilling out around him. 

Felix lays his unoccupied hand on Dimitri’s chest and casts, but his magic won’t work. What should be stitching his wounds back together is making the blood run faster, thicker. Instead of warm healing he feels cold and rot festering within Dimitri’s veins. Felix swallows, trying not to panic, and tries to cast again, but his magic won’t obey him, won’t flow properly, won’t save Dimitri.

Where Dimitri’s blood falls to earth red geraniums sprout, the fan shaped leaves brush Felix’s knees and the bloody red blossoms peak from behind Dimitri’s limp fingers. The flower’s are bloody in the dying orange light, another bloody spectacle Felix can do nothing about.

The scene stands crystallized, frozen in time and incredible detail, and Felix feels like the moment lasts for forever; Dimitri about to take one last shallow breath, Felix holding his head, it pulls tightly at this chest, and his hands burn where they’re stained with Dimitri’s blood. 

Felix takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and awakes 

——

When Felix steps into the training pit, he’s not alone. He can see the boar sitting in the darkness. obscured by shadows and hidden from the edge of moonlight encroaching as it travels along its holy path in the sky. 

He’s curled in on himself, a hand around his stomach, head in his knees. Pressed against the far wall, he’s almost like a ghost. Felix recalls his dream in hazy patches, the glimpse of an eye, the warmth of hands, the gleam of the sun, but it’s enough to stir some kind of emotion in his chest. 

He swallowed thickly, inhaled loudly and pushed all those complex feelings deep within. Someone else’s problem some other time.

“You,” Felix says, breaking the quiet imposed by the darkness, “what are you doing, moping there in the corner?”

The boar was silent, and for a moment Felix thought he hadn’t been heard, but then the boar began to shift, slowly climb to his feet. Still concave and leaning in on himself, he drew his shoulders closer and glared.

“I came here to be alone.” he growled, “ But now that you’re here you might as well have a use.”

Felix almost opened his mouth to protest,  _ I come here nearly every night, you’re here less than I, what kind of idiot are you, _ but doesn’t say the words he wants to.

Instead he takes a practice sword, weighs it in his hand, tests the balance, as if anything under the moon matters while they’re together, as if he will remember the weapon he used, or which marks in the sand are from Dimitri’s feet.

He levels his weapon at Dimitri;  déjà vu strikes him, rings hollow in this chest, and he notices what’s amiss in the heart of that peculiarity. 

Dimitri looks wrong. His stance is wrong, his posture, his hands, all wrong. He’s hunched inwards, as if he’s trying to hide, his gaze is towards the ground, and Felix can’t see his face clearly in the dim, but he can imagine what it probably looks like: listless, glassy, empty. He hasn’t even taken out a weapon. 

Felix’s skin itches as tension builds in his veins, he entertains several possible actions, several next steps, but one word sticks in his mind as he looks at Dimitri.

_ Prey. _

Did that make him a predator?

“Going to fight me empty handed, boar prince?” he says, but the taunt falls empty. Dimitri doesn’t respond except for a slight shake of his head, and he begins to turn, to drift, really, towards the weapon rack. Felix catches him first.

At first his hackles raise, as if not noticing Felix had gotten so close so quickly, he raises his hands slightly in defense and Felix sees what he already knew he would. Darkness staining Dimitri’s shirt, coating his hands, sticky and dark. Felix stepped closer, and Dimitri retreated, nearly tripping over an uneven in the stone, but freezes when Felix touches his stomach, right above the wound.

“What is this, then?”

The boar is silent, Felix can hear him breathe, raspy and strained, “Nothing. None of your business. We can still spar.”

“And let you waste away from infection? Unlikely. you’re too injured to fight right now.”

The boar bristled, “Who do you think you-”

“Is that how your eye went, too?” 

The boar quieted, but anger still burned in his eye. He turned his head glaring a hole in the wall, refusing to look at Felix. 

Felix sighed, “If you die on me here, I'll have my head lopped off by Gilbert, sorry, your beastliness, but i have an interest in staying alive.”

The boar said nothing, simply averted his eyes. Felix turned his attention back to the wound. It must have been inflicted in the battle a day earlier, Dimitri managing to hide it for so long was impressive. He pressed it gently, not intending to cause extra damage, but Dimitri’s breath hitched, and that was all Felix needed to know.

Felix reached up and began unbuttoning the shirt, Dimitri immediately protested, hands rising to grab Felix’s wrists, “W-what are you doing!?” 

Annoyance prickled in the back of his mind, but he knew of their positions were reversed, he would have already drawn his blade, so he breathed in and out, “Im checking your wound, now get rid of the shirt or I’ll rip it off you.”

Dimitri watched him for a moment, and Felix felt himself began to heat up as he considered his word choice more carefully, but slowly Dimitri’s hands let go of his wrist, and Felix was allowed to unbutton the rest of the shirt.

Dimitri’s skin was pale and scarred, mottled scars and slashes ran across his skin, he had accumulated many more in the years since the academy, but Felix still recognized the old burns and slices from their childhood. He raised a hand to touch Dimitri’s chest, and then lowered it.  _ Focus, _ he reminded himself, but his fingers twitched, and he was startled by how desperately he wanted to run his hands down Dimitri's chest, feel the texture of his scars and soothe the pain in his heart.  _ That's not my job.  _

The wound itself was an ugly thing, deep and curved, it looked like Dimitri had dodged too late, the wound just shy of fatal. He cursed under his breath as he pressed the swollen skin around the red. Dimitri stiffened beneath his fingers, but was quiet and compliant. 

The wound needed to be cleaned, blood had dried brown and black, and while some of the wound had clotted, as Felix pressed, blood oozed from Dimitri’s skin, thick and warm. He would probably need stitches too, Felix reflected, although he was sure getting Dimitri to go to Manuela would be next to impossible, so his own skills would have to suffice.

He wiped the blood on his hands off on Dimitri’s shirt, and then grabbed it to pull him along, “Come on, you need stitches. We are going to my room.”

Dimitri narrowed his eyes, and stood firm, “No.” he growled.

Felix stopped, still clutching his shirt, “What do you mean, no?” voice equally poisonous.

“I’m not your delicate plaything to cart around when you feel like I’m worth paying attention to. I came here to fight. We fight, now, on my terms. Not yours.”

Felix felt a familiar anger bubbling up in his chest. His hands twisted around stained fabric, “You want to fight? In this condition? When you can barely stand or focus on your own blade?”

Dimitri opened his mouth, but Felix pushes him, hard. He stumbled, struggling to keep his footing as Felix advanced, “Would your highness like to fight? With this wound? Maybe I should put you out of your fucking misery right now, you’d like that wouldn’t you? I could stop all those nasty little thoughts crawling around your head right now!”

Dimitri’s foot slipped as he stepped on the outer stair of the training area, and Felix grabbed his arm, the other hand still hold his shirt, and he held Dimiri aloft for a moment, just to watch the panic bloom in his eyes before Felix dropped him.

He grunted as he hit the floor, scrambling for purchase as he slid partially down the stairs.

Felix sighed and tossed back his hair. “Maybe you do deserve to rot and fester away, maybe you would be happier if I drowned you like an unwanted puppy. But we don’t always get what we want, you should know that better than anyone, boar. You will never have the power to force me to do anything, do you understand?”

Dimitri glared at Felix, but said nothing, mouth set in a hard line. Felix could almost see the anger coming off him in waves. Fine, he could feel anyway about it he wanted, but it didn’t change the fact that Felix was not going to fulfill his suicidal delusions. 

“Now, if you ever want to spar with me again, you’ll have the wound stitched up. I won’t force you to go to Manuela, but it’s me or her.”

Dimitri closed his eye, grimaced, and said with no small degree of hatred, “Fine. You.”

Felix smirked,tried not to let the relief he felt show on his face, “Glad we could come to an accord.”

——

The academy was still dark as they wandered through its stony halls. Felix carefully unlocked his door, trying to avoid any nosy neighbors 

Dimitri hovered awkwardly, like he didn’t quite fit in the scene. And in a way he didn’t, his frame was large and wild, he stood apart from the domesticity like water and oil. 

Felix dug out his medical supplies, pulled out needle, thread, and a roll of bandages. His water basin was still half full from when he had filled it in the morning, so he dipped a spare cloth in it and approached Dimitri.

Dimitri frowned at Felix, looking more uneasy than angry. Good, an improvement.

“Hold still,” Felix ordered, “I don’t care if it hurts.”

Dimitri didn’t make a sound as Felix scrubbed the wound, washing away dirt and blood, the incision itself was jagged, made by a blunter weapon, most definitely the bandits from earlier. 

The wound wasn’t as deep as Felix first imagined, Dimitri was probably lucky to avoid any organ damage, but just to be sure Felix ran a finger along the wound, using just enough magic to seal the deeper parts, it was always better to let wounds heal naturally than waste energy on a messy magical heal, but he couldn’t be sure Dimitri wouldn’t stress the wound later on.

Dimitri’s breath hitched as he cast, although he couldn’t imagine why, last time he checked faith magic didn’t hurt, it was hot and itchy sure, but every wound felt that way, it was simply accelerating healing. His chest tickled, and Felix covered his mouth with his elbow as he coughed.

He turned to find his needle, “I don’t have alcohol, it’s not part of the rations, so I can’t disinfect this wound beyond the low level healing I already did. So don’t get this dirty, and bathe often, you understand?”

Dimitri said nothing, so as Felix stepped back he poked his stomach with the needle, Dimitri hissed, “Speak boar, or have you forgotten how to in these scant moments?”

“I understand.” he grounded out, and Felix smirked. 

He laid his hand flat on Dimitri’s stomach as he considered the stitching. It would be easier if Dimitri would just lie down, but Felix suspected he would put up a fight, and he was already exhausted enough with the boar’s antics 

“Don’t flinch,” he warned,” normally you wouldn’t be sober for this.”

He heard Dimitri inhale sharply as he pushed the needle through his skin, but as told, he didn’t move besides the shallow rise and fall of his breathing. Felix finished the stitches and tied them off, before grabbing the roll of bandages, he wrapped them around Dimitri’s middle tightly, Dimitri’s skin was rough beneath his fingers, scarred and textured. Something in Felix’s chest pulled as he tied off the bandages, and he tried not to think about how badly he wanted to touch Dimitri’s skin again. 

“See, that wasn’t so hard.” He said, smoothing out Dimitri’s ruined shirt and buttoning it back up. “Good boar, not such an animal after all.”

Dimitri said nothing, he was watching Felix with an odd expression, one that didn’t fit into Felix’s image of New Dimitri. It was something gentler, soft and alien on his normally hateful face. 

Felix looked away swiftly as tickling in his throat overcame him, he coughed roughly into his elbow, “Don’t make that face at me. In fact, don’t even look at me.”

He swiftly turned away and replaced the bandages with his medical supplies. 

“Tomorrow night we can spar again... but I would prefer if you spend tomorrow night resting. After that it can be business as usual. We’re done here.”

Dimitri opened his mouth as if to say something, and then closed it again. He nodded, and then walked to the door. He stood there for a moment, hesitating, and then finally opened the door and left. The release of tension was palpable, Felix sighed in relief as he was left alone. 

The boar’s presence was too big, it filled the room and demanded attention. Everything about him demanded attention, his bright eye and his pale skin, every scar that ran across his stomach was something Felix wanted to touch, and he didn’t know how to control the trembling in his fingers. Felix fell back on his bed and closed his eyes. He could still feel Dimitri’s skin, cool and tense under his fingers, could still envision the look in Dimitri’s eye before he left.

Images, textures, emotions, rose unbidden in Felix’s mind, the pale angle of Dimitri’s jaw, the slip of fine blonde hair through his fingers, a tightness in his own chest... an ouroboros of feeling and fondness and future curling around his mind.

He groaned and slapped his forehead, feeling foolish. Felix opened his eyes and stared at the flickering fire illuminated ceiling, there was nothing there to love. No feelings but hatred and fear, no merits but power and quiet. Dimitri was just like the ghosts that haunted him. But even so Felix still felt pressure growing behind his sternum. 

A sudden twinge of pain made him cough, an ugly thing bursting from his lips. He covered his mouth with a hand as he hacked, trying to relieve the sensation of prickling in the back of his throat. Iron rose in the back of his mouth, and as he struggled to catch his breath, one more cough was all it took to dislodge the object. 

Felix took a moment to catch his breath, and brought his hand to the light of the flickering candle to see a spit covered scarlet flower petal. An odd fear struck him to his heart,  _ what the fuck? _

As he wiped his hand on his sheets he was struck with the memory of blood red light and blood red flowers and blood blood blood. He closed his eyes, breathed in and out, there was no use in freaking out now, he could solve this… issue tomorrow in the daylight. 

Felix laid back down and turned over, sinking into an uneasy sleep. 

——

Dimitri deflected his side blow with a parry. Felix swung his blade around in retaliation, trying to cut into his other side, and he hoped the boar didn’t notice that he avoided the optimal strike to the belly. 

The boar takes the hit with a grunt, and his next strike is overhead, rough and thrown wildly, its sloppy, and it’s like he used to be before they started sparring regularly again, before Dimitri had to relearn confrontation with a real swordsman. 

Felix jumped to the side, the blow landed with a heavy thwack on the stone floor. The boar moved to swing again, but he was too slow. Felix got another hit off on his shoulder, and as the boar straightened he gave another swing, but Felix was already moving in past his guard. He brought his sword up with a rush and held it to Dimitri’s throat, pressing softly. 

“And now you’re dead.” He says, Dimitri swallowed and leaned back, but Felix’s blade followed. “You’re weaker than usual, are you holding back? I know it isn’t the wound, you're not favoring it” 

Dimitri stayed silent, a particular frustration in his eye. Irritation pricked at Felix as he narrowed his eyes, “Don't trifle with me boar, I could still put you down if I choose.”

Dimitri grimaced, opened his mouth and then closed it again. This time Felix let him retreat and reposition his stance. “Fine, if that's what you'd like.” 

This time Felix made the first movement, but as he and Dimitri’s blades clashed, there was a familiar tightness in chest. He leaned in and watched as Dimitri’s brow furrowed, a lock of hair fell in his face and something in Felix twisted. 

Dimitri broke away for a side strike, Felix dodged, but just barely, and the next blow struck him across the ribs, it knocked a cough from his lungs and he covered his mouth as he struck forward once more. Dimitri apparently didn’t expect him to lunge because Felix hit him hard across the shoulder, he hissed, reached up fast as lighting, and caught Felix’s blade. 

Felix had a moment of deja vu. He expected Dimitri to break the blade, or use it to pull him forward, but Dimitri did none of that. Instead he pushed it and Felix away from him.

Felix still dropped the handle, and his chest seized as his coughing fit escalated. His head pounded in rhythm with his chest’s convulsions. After a moment of pain he tasted bitter on his tongue and wet warmth on his fingers. He pulled his hand away, and was unsurprised to see red, coating his hand, oiled between his fingers, and warm on his lips. 

“What is that?” Dimtiri demands, and if Felix didn't know better he would guess that Dimitri was concerned. As if an animal would have such emotions

“None of your goddamn business.” Felix hissed back, he swallowed the bitter and iron in his mouth and stood, wiping the geranium petals on his pants. “We can resume.”

“No, we can’t-”

“Oh what? Now you're concerned? Don’t make me laugh, boar, we both know what you really are.”

Dimitri’s grip on the blade tightened, and Felix felt a sick satisfaction knowing he was still so adept at hurting Dimitri. Dimitri threw down his weapon, rolling his eyes and brisling, “It’s always what you want, isn’t it?”

Felix opened his mouth to retort back, but Dimitri is already walking away, and Felix lets him, not so childish as to demand the final word. 

He swallows back iron and bitter, and aches.

——

Shadows beaded up along the seams of the room, curled around the legs of furniture and dampened the carpet. Felix watched the window-filtered moonlight make slow moving patterns across the wall and ran his fingers across the soft slippery petal of a geranium from his own mouth. Hee couldn’t sleep, but the thought of training makes him feel sick to his stomach. He can’t bear the thought of seeming so weak in front of the boar again, and he can’t bare the thought of his nightmares becoming reality, so instead he lays in bed, lets time soothe his mind back into exhaustion. 

There is a knock at the door; it rings unnaturally loud in the quiet darkness, and Felix lets it ring, content to be still. But a creeping edge of curiosity propelled his limbs into motion, and he found himself unlocking his door and opening it half way.

It’s Dimitri; because of course it is.

He looked the boar up and down, he was dressed down in the night, but is still wearing that ridiculous cloak. He looked nervous, an unexpected expression on his cold face. Felix’s fingers itched to touch him, to hold his face, stroke his hair, like in one of the inane dreams he would have on dark nights. He blinked, and tried to remember what he knew. Just another example of the monster playing human.

Felix almost closed the door in his face. by all rights that what he should have done. Closed the door on that part of his life, on that animal, on someone who messed with his mind and emotions.

Instead he opened it wider. “Why are you here?” 

Dimitri took a couple seconds to enter into the room, and as he did his gaze swept across the swords piled on his desk, the tossed sheets, and small scarlet petals, scattered across the floor and clumped around the edges of his bed where he brushed them off every morning. Dimitri disturbed the moonlight across Felix’s wall, and his cloak brushed across the floor, sending old dust and new petals sliding across the floor as he walked. 

“I..... You...” Dimitri closed his mouth and swallowed. Felix moved the door so it was half closed, he wanted to keep it open, give the boar an escape route if he so chose it, but there was no need to invite prying eyes.

“I... I needed help.” He said quickly, averting his eyes. 

Felix crossed his arms, “At what? Deciding who’s room to barge into tomorrow night?”

Dimitri swallowed, and then slowly unbuttoned his shirt, “You’re right I... don’t have a good track record with injuries...”

Felix felt his heart soften against his will. He should throw Dimitri out. Slam the door in his face, leave the Monastery, leave Fodlan altogether, he heard Almyra was nice his time of year... But Dimitri being here, coming to him, showing some semblance of care for himself when previously all there was was loathing. It spoke of improvement, of just a little bit of effort. It struck him suddenly, how dearly he wanted Dimitri to be better, to learn to be better. He had spent so long damning the man because he was frightened of him, not considering that Dimitri too, felt fear.  _ It could have been anyone else, but he came to you.  _

His chest pulled suddenly and he coughed roughly into his sleeve, after a moment he cleared his throat and nodded, his head aching like his heart. 

“Okay.” he said hoarsely

He stepped closer to Dimitri and felt like he was falling into an orbit. He ran his finger along the button edge of his shirt, “You'll need to remove the cloak” he said, eyes not making contact.

He heard the rustle of fabric and a drop on the floor.

An unfamiliar emotion curled in his heart as Felix turned and retrieved his medical supplies. Pulling out a small pair of scissors he returned to Dimitri, the bandages hadn’t been changed at all since Felix originally applied them, typical of the boar. He carefully cut the bandages away from Dimtiri’s stomach. Privately he indulged in being able to touch Dimitri again. This was different than sparring, even when they weren’t seriously trying to hurt each other, they acted like it. That was brutal and furious, this was… something quiet and gentle. It made Felix’s chest hurt in a different way than it usually did, a full overflowing sensation, like he could barely breathe around the emotion curling around his heart.

Dimitri’s wound was doing considerably better than where Felix had left it, still pink and tender, he gently pressed his hand against Dimitri’s skin, just because he could, and he had last time. If the boar asked he would make something up, that he was checking the temperature or some other nonsense.

Felix sighed and began to pull away, but as he did, he realized his hair was caught, He quickly glanced up to see Dimitri dropping a lock of his hair as if he had been burned. 

They stared at each other for a moment, Dimitri smiled crookedly, as if this were a simple misunderstanding, and not a weird out of left field gesture.

“Your hair looks nice worn down...”

Felix felt his face slowly heat as he registered Dimitri’s comment, Dimitri touching his hair, Dimitri laying attention on him so tenderly. He swiftly turned away as he felt a pressure building in his chest that he steadfastly ignored while he replaced his scissors. He stared at the small first aid kit, trying to remember what he was doing before this pain in his lungs and before Dimitri’s hands on his- 

He turned to glance back at Dimitri, to try to pick up his train of thought where it had left off, but upon seeing him, head cocked to the side, blond hair falling on his shoulder, eyes concerned; Felix coughed awfully. 

He ducked his head as he choked, felt petals gather behind his teeth, bitter on his tongue, and after a moment he caught his breath, he picked a couple of petals out of his mouth, and wiped them on his pants.

He looked up to see Dimitri watching him. “What? Mind your own business.”

Dimitri’s eyes slid off him and onto the floor, tracing the edges of shadow that clung to the room from the flickering lamp light. 

Felix dipped an old cloth in his water basin and set to work cleaning the wound, it was healing nicely, Felix was rather surprised, although he shouldn’t have been, for the boar to survive so well our in the wild he would have had to have been tough. 

While he worked he pointedly did not think about Dimitri’s skin beneath his hands or Dimitri’s slow breathing or the way Felix’s nightmares flashed behind his eyes.

Dimitri inhaled sharply as Felix drew his finger along the stitches, seeping just enough magic into the wound to ward away infection and heal the depths of the cut. Felix rested his hand on Dimitri’s lower belly as he ended the spell, and the absurdity of the situation struck him suddenly,  _ what on earth were they doing? _

He laughed, turning away from Dimitri, and then laughed even harder as he clutched a roll of bandages to his chest. 

“...What?” Dimitri asked quietly, negativity coloring the word.

Felix shook his head, “Look at us,” he said, wrapping bandages around Dimitri’s middle, “playing house. How quaint.”

He tied off Dimitri’s bandages, and gently rested his hand over his stomach, as if imagining it was all a dream. 

And perhaps it was, Felix reflected, a fevered dream at midnight. He would awake at any moment to find his throat full of petals and his head full of empty

“Felix-“ Dimitri began, but Felix shook his head.

“Go to bed, Mitya,” he said softly, “it's late.”

They watched each other for another moment. Felix could see Dimitri turning his words over and over again in his head, could see the thoughts race through his eyes. Perhaps he really wasn’t so beastly afterall.

At last, Dimitri nodded and drifted out the door. Felix shut it with a resounding click and sighed deeply as he turned his eyes back to his room. He extinguished the flickering lamp and closed his eyes against the patterned moonlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD ITS PUBLISHED
> 
> i’ve been chewing on this bastard for a month, and while i’m not entirely happy, i just want to get rid of it!
> 
> Despite its faults i’m still proud of this bad boy, and i wanted to bear a little of my soul here. This fic started as a vent, i uploaded everything to google and discovered i had 13,000 words of venting! so i decided to turn it into this fic, i thought someone would be interested in this, and i really feel like i can’t move on with my writing until this thing is published. so thanks so much for reading and i hope you enjoy! chapter 2 will be posted this friday :)
> 
> [Language of Flowers](https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/31591)


	2. after.

The night after Felix’s father died, he found a place for his blade in the practice dummies. Every single one of them would be destroyed by the end of the night, he decided, and he practiced his strikes on each layer of the straw and burlap construct, watching it fall away with precision and fury. 

It’s only after the soft cling of metal on stone that Felix realizes he isn’t alone. One final swipe and the rest of the dummy before him fell into pieces. He turned, and was utterly unsurprised to see Dimitri. 

He was frowning, and a practice lance was held in one hand, Felix didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to think about him or anything concerning him, but he was here now, and so Felix does the only thing he knows to do when it comes to Dimitri. 

Felix took him by surprise as he lunged, and the steel of his blade cut a groove into the wooden shaft of the training lance, barely risen in time. He didn’t look at Dimitri as he reared his blade back and struck again, this time around the side. Dimitri just barely blocked, and Felix could see that the wooden shaft was nearly split. 

He pulled his blade from the wood and struck once more, trying to break the lance. It cracked with a satisfying echo and Dimitri grunted as Felix’s blade scraped against his armor. Finally Dimitri retaliated as he brought the bladeless end of his broken weapon towards Felix’s stomach. Felix blocked him easily, but it was the action that mattered, hitting someone who didn’t hit back was no more satisfying than hitting a dummy.

With renewed vigor he brought his blade overhead, forcing Dimitri to jump back, and he struck again, and again, and again. Dimitri could only block so well with his wooden blade, he could only dodge so fast, and as Felix cornered him against a pillar he dodged too slow. Felix puts his foot out and tripped him.

Dimitri fell hard, hitting his head against the stone floor, Felix immediately dropped to one knee, pressing it into Dimitri’s chest and holding him down. He struggled for a moment, and Felix pressed harder, bringing his blade to Dimitri’s throat. 

“I should end your miserable life right now.” 

Dimitri’s breath is pained and shallow, he tilted his head back, bared his throat. “Then do it.”

“What?” He sneered, “The wild boar won’t fight for the life he was given?”

Dimitri closed his eyes, “I would be okay… If it was you. You know me better than anyone else, a judgement from you… I wouldn’t mind…” 

Felix rose the blade, and Dimitri flinched a he threw it above his head, clanging against the stone. There was an awful feeling, a sick satisfaction and a building guilt, when he sees Dimitri flinch, and he balled his hands into fists, screamed raw and angry as he pressed his forehead against Dimitri’s shoulder. 

Felix felt Dimitri’s chest rise and fall as he squeezed his eyes tight. He was alive, so alive. He could have not been, Felix reminded himself, he had been so close to losing him. But instead his father took Fleche’s blade. He had fought with his father on millions of fronts, but Rodrigue had still been important to him, and he doesn’t even want to touch the growing storm of despair and fear and relief and anger building at the edges of his mind. 

Felix couldn’t stop thinking about what was, what is, what could have been, and he struggled to control his breathing, to not trigger a coughing fit that would make him even more upset. 

Dimitri’s hands came up, hesitant, like they wanted to touch but were afraid they weren’t allowed to, “I'm sorry.. I didn't think he would-“

Something inside Felix snaped, and all of a sudden he exploded, pushing away and screaming, “THAT'S JUST IT, ISN’T IT? YOU NEVER THINK, DIMITRI, YOU NEVER FUCKING THINK!”

Felix could see something breaking in Dimitri’s eyes, and so he stood, turned away. “I can't look at you anymore.”

Felix fled swiftly,out into the cool night. Clouds were overhead, rumbling ominously, and Felix wished it would rain, to wash away the blood of the battle field and every fallen body, to wash away every loss and every emotion clinging to his traitorous heart. He walked to the edge of a cliff, placing his hands on the cool stone wall and breathing the damp charged air that lingered just before a storm. 

When he saw flickering at the corner of his eye he was unsurprised to see Dimitri, he placed his hands on the stone too, and looked out across the mountains that surround Gareg Mach, mirroring Felix.

They’re silent for a moment, and Felix felt shame as he saw dark red seeping through Dimitri’s hair. 

“You’re right.” Dimitri began, voice soft like the wind brushing Felix’s hair, “I never think. I just rush in, whether or not I know what’s truly going on. My behavior has been unacceptable, and I’ve let everyone down. I can’t convey how sorry I am for that, but Felix, I want… I want to try… to be better.”

Felix turned to watch the quiet sadness blooming across Dimitri’s face, “Will you… help me?”

Dimitri’s eyes meet his hopefully, and Felix studied the drift of his blond hair in the wind, the angle of his cheekbone, the pure hope in his eye, vast and new and determined, and he finally gave into what he had been craving to do ever since he saw Dimitri again for the very first time. 

“Come here, Mitya.” He said softly. 

Felix embraced Dimitri, pulled him close beneath the grey sky and buried his face in his chest. Dimitri bowed his head on Felix’s shoulder and clutched at his sides, he was shaking slightly, and his cape enveloped both of them as rain began to fall from above. Dimitri was warm, so, so, warm, and Felix leaned into it, let Dimitri surround him and hold him tightly. Rain soaked them both, and as Dimitiri shivered Felix reached his hands up around Dimitri’s neck, and healed the wound from where his head had hit the stone. His fingertips were warm as he removed his hands and tucked them back beneath the cloak. It was cathartic, he realized, and what he had been wanting for so long. Just to be able to hold Dimitri, without pretense, regret, punishment or reward. Just with kindness.

“I missed you.” He whispered, and Dimitri held him tighter.

——

Felix dreams that it is pitch black outside. Deeper than night, the sky is an empty void, and the monastery is lit only in grey and sepia shadows. He stumbles through the courtyard, trips down stairs, yet he knows where he needs to be and knows he is already late.

When Felix finally stumbles through the doorway of the training pit, he’s received in the light. 

The fires in the pit are lit, a soft flickering glow anoints them, and standing tall and dark and ominous, is Dimitri. His back is to Felix, but as Felix’s feet hit the stone floor, his head turns, and his hair falls into his face, pale and silvery. 

“You’re late.”

His voice is rough and deep. It breaks the silence previously imposed on the world, and Felix realizes he had been hearing nothing but his own breathing until now. Dimitri’s voice seemed to call the world to life, and as Felix walked forward he could hear his own steps, “I wasn’t aware we were on a schedule.”

Felix closes his hand around a sword, he brings it to his face and turns the blade, watching Dimitri turn around. 

The great overcloak drops from his shoulders to the ground, and Dimitri seems so much smaller without it. He rolls his shoulders, stands up straighter, and when he turns around his good eye is narrowed, dark and dangerous. The other is blackened, a bruising of darkness seemed to radiate outward across his forward and cheekbone.

Felix breathes in and out, something about Dimitri’s visage upsets him, but he can’t seem to pinpoint why. A cloud of murky emotions and mist are in his head as he tries to push his thoughts through. 

Dimitri points his sword at Felix, and all the thoughts in his head dissipate as they leap into action. 

Dimitri’s blows are heavy handed as usual, Felix slips between his strikes, dodges and weaves, and when he does find a chance to strike out, Dimitri just barely blocks it, a last second flick of the wrist or step away.

He’s distracted, Felix can tell that much, he moves stiffly, and when Felix dropped low to avoid an overhead strike, he was able to grab Dimitri’s foot without issue.

Dimitri collapses without a proper stance, and Felix quickly jumps to hold his sword to Dimitri’s neck, secure his win.

Dimitri is breathing heavily, throat working as he tries to catch his breath enough to say something. Felix doesn’t even feel winded, and a pervading sense of deja vu hits him. 

“Yield.” he says, and Dimitri tilts his head back, beating his throat, nodded weakly. 

Felix sighs, he tries to withdraw his weapon, but instead he finds he cannot move his arms. He struggles for another minute before panic sets in, and as it does he watches as he draws back the sword, no, now it’s a knife, gleaming and pointed, and plunges it into Dimitri’s chest.

Dimitri gasps, wet and aborted, and Felix can feel the blade sinking deeper into his chest, past muscle and tissue and between his ribs. Felix tries to move, tries to control himself, but the more he desperately pulls at his muscles, the deeper he sinks the blade. Petals well up and push themselves out of the wound, scarlet geranium petals, they stain Felix’s hands and cover Dimitri’s chest, a flush of color against monochrome

One of Dimtiri’s hands feebly raised to Felix’s face as he pushed the blade impossibly deeper,. Weak and frail, his fingers brushed against Felix’s cheek and covered his eyes. Dimitri’s palm was burning hot against Felix's skin, a burning darkness. 

Dimitri inhaled shakily, Felix could feel his whole chest move with the breath; weak and shallow. 

“Felix, Felix...” he gasped.

Felix finds he can’t breathe, a dull ache filling his heart.

“...Felix..... Thank you,”

Dimitri says the words with such gratitude, such reverence, that Felix is sickened deep within. His own chest burns as if he was plunging the knife into it as well, and maybe he was, carving out both their hearts in one fell swoop.

Felix closes his eyes as Dimitri’s hand falls away, he doesn’t want to see, but somehow he knows the scene anyways. Dimitri lying still, covered in scarlet geranium, eyes glassy and still, mouth contorted into a smile.

——

Felix pressed harder; trying to force the boar to yield. The boar’s in a bad spot, on his back, a lance being the only thing that separated him from the wrath of Felix’s wooden blade, If he were to find some relief he could make a swing, jump to his feet, and so Felix cannot allow it. 

He meets the boar’s eyes and finds something he doesn’t understand in them, instead of a retaliation the lance gives, and clatters to the ground behind the boar’s head. Felix breathes out slowly, relaxes his sword arm, but doesn’t move from where he’s poised over Dimitri. 

There’s a tightness in his chest that he has grown all too familiar with lately, it pushes down on his lungs, makes it hard to breathe. Beneath him Dimitri frowns slightly, a concerned look, wholly unnecessary, and the unfamiliar emotion in his eyes makes Felix’s heart twist, it’s sappy. Way too sappy for his tastes. The boar had been better lately, just like he had promised. He had been playing nice with the others, stopped wailing every night in the cathedral, and hid at least half of his more beastly nature. 

But the soft look made Felix’s chest painfully tight, and he covered Dimitri’s eyes with a hand, “Ugh, stop looking at me like that.”

He feels Dimitri’s brow furrow beneath his palm, “Like what?”

Felix doesn’t respond, too caught up in trying to relieve the vising sensation in his chest, it ached, and he can barely breathe. He dropped his stance to sit on Dimitri’s waist, trying to breathe through shallow gasping breaths. 

Hesitant hands reached up to hold his waist, “Felix?” Dimitri asked, confused and worried.

And suddenly Felix is a million dreams away. He can see Dimitri lying down, hands clutching, black and white and red red red, he closed his eyes tightly, it’s not real it’s not real, it’s not real, but Dimitri beneath his hands is real, and Felix can still feel the phantoms of his limbs moving against his will, hurting, ripping, killing-

“Shut up, boar prince.” he gasped, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Dimitri’s collarbone and wheezing, trying to stop the world from spinning. One of Dimitri’s hands drifted up and tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear, and suddenly Felix couldn't breathe. He choked, struggling to breathe around flowers in his throat. His chest spasmed for a moment, and then he began to hack.

Felix was hot and overwhelmed and dying all at once. He clutched at Dimitri, trying to find some kind of anchor amongst the vertigo, his fingers sank into rough fur, and the other hand slid back to grip at Dimitri’s hair. Dimitri was still here, beneath his hands, alive alive alive. He heard sounds, felt hands touching him, but nothing cut through the raw instinctual panic of I’m dying I’m dying I cant breathe I’m going to die-

Suddenly, there is a shift in his throat, and then everything comes so much easier. Felix hacks up bitter and red and iron, it fills up his mouth and dribbles down his chin, but oxygen is sweet, and he breathes gratefully, damp and woozy. 

His head spun, and darkness pulled at his mind. He wanted to close his eyes, hide away fom unfocused blurry colors of blues and blacks and reds; sink into the deep of sleep. He laid his hands flat, focusing on the warmth and touch, something real before him. And then he remembered he was with Dimitri. 

Everything rushed back, including a feeling of deep fear, sticking to his skin like humidity, he leaned away, partially because he loathed to seem so weak, and partially because he has to see Dimitri, see him and know these emotions are baseless. 

His vertigo returns with vengeance, and pain shot through his head as he leaned away, he can’t get too far away though, and it takes him an embarrassingly long time to put his thoughts in order to realize that Dimitri is talking to him, holding him, touching his cheek. 

“Felix, are yo-”

Felix waves him away, “I’m fine, don’t coddle me.”

His eye narrowed, “You sure as hell didn't seem fine.”

Then softer “This is your illness.”

There's that tension again, different than his cough, a pulling twisting curling sensation that he loathes to put a name on, “I should be going,” he says, because to stay would mean to admit that he didn't have his illness under control, spark more of Dimitri's attention, make him vulnerable. 

“Wait” Dimitri said, but Felix is already getting up, he wobbles once, but does not fall. He leaves as quickly as he can without teetering, trying to right his vision as quickly as possible, ward away the dark spots and vertigo. He leaves Dimitri sprawled on the training ground floor; hands outstretched. 

Outside the air was cool and the sky was dark. Pinpricks of light shone through the dark velvet, and Felix let the soft light soothe his pain. Out here, away from the boar and away from the chaos he could breathe properly again. His head still pounded, but the thin cool air let him think, he could recall with startling precision Dimitri’s warmth beneath his hands, heavy heart against his ear, hair sliding through his fingers. 

Felix swallowed, that terrible twisting in his heart was forming again. As the noise in his vision cleared he realized his mouth tasted like blood, he swiped the back of his hand across his mouth and it came away streaked with bloody saliva. There’s a coldness that seems to fill his limbs when he realizes what he must have left behind, a mess of blood and petals, and he knows that he can’t go back, especially not now, Dimitri would give him that disgustingly sappy look and try to touch him, as if Felix was some poor creature to be pitied. 

And still lingering in the back of his mind was his dream, thick and coagulated it seems to stick in Felix’s heart, flowing slowly through his veins, hands pressing, the sound of Dimitri gasping for breath, the red red red. 

Felix sighed, pulled at his hair, it’s not real, it’s not real, but that assertion didn’t make him feel any better, and Felix sinks into his bed weary and afraid. 

——

When Felix stepped into the training grounds he found something different waiting for him. Dimitri is sitting amongst a pile of weapons, Felix could see piles of broken wood and bent metal, and he watched as Dimitri used that monstrous strength of his to bend a broken practice blade back into shape. 

“Playing housekeeper?” he asks, feeling weird for just watching Dimitiri work.

Dimitri jumps slightly, and then twists to look at Felix. “Ah, Felix, I’m getting these weapons repaired, I’m afraid I… broke a considerable number of them.” 

Felix thinks about splintering blades and chain in his chest, “Indeed, you have.”

“I’m also afraid I must request your help again,” Dimitri says, quieter this time, and Felix watches his hand drift to his stomach, and he understands. 

“Okay, my room, come on.” 

As soon as Felix shuts the door he turns to Dimitri and unbuttons his shirt. He cannot tell if the shake in his fingers is excitement over getting to touch Dimitri again or if it’s to be done with the injury entirely. 

The wound had healed amazingly well, and even while knowing Dimitri’s survival in the wild Felix was still surprised. 

“I’m going to take out the stitches, okay?” 

Dimitri nodded his assent, and after a moment of silence where Felix busied himself with taking out scissors and tweezers, Dimitri speaks again. 

As Felix returned there was a slight brush of hand across the side of his hair, he froze, and Dimitri apologized, “I’m sorry, may I?”

There was a moment where mortification ran so deep Felix wanted to snap vitriol at Dimitri, but he remembered the open, hopeful expression of nights ago, and he knows he can’t turn his back on Dimitri like that. Even still he realizes he wants to be touched, as embarrassing and awful as admitting it sounds.

So Felix rolled his eyes, “Well you didn’t ask permission last time.”

After a moment of quiet hands threaded through his hair and pulled out the tie. It cascaded around his shoulders and fell in his face. Felix sighed and blowed a lock out of the way, “Keep it out of my face or I’ll end up stabbing you.”

Dimitri chuckled softly, the sound made Felix’s chest squeeze and a cough rise, “Yes, sir.” 

Felix set to work cutting out Dimitri’s stitches, trying to focus on Dimitri’s skin before him, and not the hands running through his hair, brushing past his ear, the nails scraping his scalp. He glanced up to see Dimitri smiling, something small and private, just between the two of them. Felix felt his face heating up, but he found it hard to care more about that than watching a moment he might never see again. 

He realized he wanted to see Dimitri smile like that again.

“I like your hair long,” Dimitri confessed, pulling a lock away from Felix and letting it fall back down. 

“Well I don’t like your’s long, it's all over your face, a liability in battle.”

“Oh? What would you care for that?”

Felix huffed, feeling tight, red flashed through his head, a dream he couldn’t quite remember, but one he knows he’s had many times before. “Because if you die that makes more enemies flock towards me.”

“Ah, I see,” There’s a teasing glint in Dimitri’s words, it’s painfully familiar, painfully like so long ago, and he wants more of it. “perhaps I should begin putting it up.”

“Don’t bother,” Felix’s chest twisted, “you’ll only embarrass yourself, I’ll do it for you.”

Dimitri said nothing, but he did smile, and ran his hands through Felix’s hair again, it made his chest feel right and pained and made him want to cough. Felix tried not to think about how good Dimitri's hands felt and he especially tried not to think about how dearly he wanted to put his hands in Dimitri’s hair. 

When Felix finished pulling out the stitches, he placed a hand on Dimitri’s middle and healed away the rest of the wound. It left a jagged scar, just another against the motley, and Felix feels an odd loss when he realizes he won’t be able to touch Dimitri like this anymore. 

“Done.” he said, and he stepped away as Dimitri rebuttoned his shirt

“Now sit, I’ll put up your hair.” he pulled his chair away from his desk and positioned it in the middle of the room. 

“Right now?” 

“Yes right now, unless you want me to change my mind.” 

Dimitri sat down obediently, smiling that beautiful small smile of his. Felix ran a hand through Dimitri's hair, noting the rough texture, the slight resistance, the breath Dimitri inhaled.

“Goddess,” He said, “you never brush your hair, do you?”

Felix grabbed his hair brush off his desk and ran it through Dimitri’s hair, tugging none too gently. Dimitri didn’t complain once though, and as Felix set the brush back down and gathered Dimitri's hair between his hands to decide what to do with it, his fingertips brushed Dimitri's ear, and he shivered. 

Felix coughed into his arm, swallowing down the few petals that came up, and he set to work braiding Dimitri's up on either side, it was a little more complex than what he promised, but for the chance to touch Dimitri’s hair more it was worth it.

After a moment Dimitri said, “Are you braiding my hair?” smile evident in the curve of his tone. 

“Shut up,” Felix said, pulling a handful of hair roughly, “unless you want me to stop.”

Dimitri gasped shakily as Felix pulled, it was a surprised breathy sort of sound, and Felix’s imagination immediately went wild; pulling on Dimitri's hair in a different time, perhaps the same place.

“N-no,” Dimitri muttered, and it was small enough that Felix felt his imagination run again. He took a breath to try and compose himself, to not think about Dimitri making those noises in other circumstances. Felix almost regretted slipping the tie into Dimitri’s hair, but he was afraid he would yank it again, just to hear the noise that Dimitri would make. 

Dimitri’s hands immediately went to the back of his head, feeling the braids, where Felix slapped them, “Don’t mess it up!”

He tilted his head back to look at Felix and smiled softly, “Thank you, Felix.”

Felix coughed into his elbow, trying to suppress the heat rushing his face and the twisting pain in his chest, “Don’t mention it to anyone.”

Dimitri stood, stretched his shoulders and replaced the chair as Felix wiped his mouth of petals, “Of course not.”

Felix watched him go with a sort of pain that’s he was beginning to grow all too familiar with. He thought about Dimitrii’s hands in his hair, thought about the sound of his gasp when Felix has pulled, thought about pushing Dimitri onto his bed, keeping him there, thought about, thought about, thought about…..

——

Dimitri is humming softly, Felix watches him from over the pillow, his hair catches the setting sunlight and he looks so much smaller, so much more human in a simple tunic than in his usual hulking overcloak and armor.

The song is oddly familiar, glints of a melody that Felix can’t quite catch. He sits up, and Dimitri keeps his eye closed, still humming, but a small smile lets Felix know he’s been noticed.

Felix slides a thigh over his hips and straddles him, he leans down and kisses Dimitri softly. Dimitri doesn’t kiss back so much as he smiles and laughs breathily as Felix peppers light kisses across his face, his forehead, his good eye, his cheeks and his nose. Dimitri’s hands come up to hold his waist, warm and gentle, and then the nightmare begins. 

Felix cups Dimtiri’s face, rubbing his thumbs over Dimtiri’s cheekbones, he sees clearly in mind Dimitri’s soft smile and bright eye, and then he drops his hands down to Dimitri's throat and squeezes as hard as he can.

Dimitri wheezes, shocked and high pitched, and Felix watches as surprise passes for panic, emotions lacing through his eye like lighting. Dimitri’s hands reach up to claw at Felix, but Felix simply shifts his weight, leans forward and presses harder harder harder.

Dimitri's nails dug into his hands, making fine white trails against his skin, red welled up across the lacerations, sweet and burning. Dimitri made a small choked sound, one of struggle and fear and betrayal, and Felix found himself gasping for the same air he deprived Dimitri of. 

Felix feels the resistance of Dimitri's throat beneath his palms, warm and elastic and slowly yielding as he watches Dimitri choke and wheeze, turning blue and tears welling up in his eyes.  
He felt his own chest burn, his mouth fell open, trying to inhale, but it was like he was being smothered, he gasped for air but none seemed to enter his lungs, his throat closed off and thick.

Felix’s head grew heavy, and it took him a couple moments to notice Dimitri's hands weakening, no longer fighting for life, instead of drawing blood they rested on Felix’s hands. One feebly raises, shaking and slow, to Felix’s cheek, he is struck with a terrible deja vu. He watches as Dimitri makes one last attempt at life, a small whine in his chest, high pitched and heartbroken.

And then Felix watched as his eyes grow dull, and his life slipped away.

Felix tries to swallow but only found himself choking, he tries to cough, but can’t breathe in air for it, and all the while he was still pressing, still leaning down on Dimitri

His chest burned, hot like fire sorching his mind and cold like ice freezing his heart. He was so incredibly cold and it ached, worse than he had ever known before. 

Felix found himself going numb, like his entire body was shutting down. It served to press harder on his horror and panic, beginning from the depths. Dimitri was still beneath him, painfully still, and his fingers barely twitched under his command. 

Finally one of Felix’s hands mercifully obeyed him, he rose it to Dimitri’s face, contorted in pain, and he couldn’t seem to control the shaking in his limbs. Dimitri made no response, and Felix feels cold down to his core, he wants to scream, but finds he can’t, wheezing and choking on his own gift lodged in his chest.

Felix leaned forward, trying to catch even one gulp of air, but he felt like he was going to explode, surely he should have died by now, and he can’t tear his eyes away from Dimitri. He wishes he would die already, to stop the pain. 

Felix squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on the darkness, the encroaching oblivion, the atonement so close by, it came slowly, like blood dripping off a blade, molasses dripping from the bottle, tears running down his cheeks. 

Felix woke slowly, and opened his eyes to darkness. The room was pitch, one solid hue, like the depth of night or an abyss of sea. He stayed where he was as the contours of the room came into dull relief.

Felix breathed in carefully through his mouth, and panic struck through him again as something caught against his throat. He shot straight up and coughed roughly, soft thin petals soaked in spit landed in his hand, and he shut his eyes tightly, realized that he had been crying.

He laid back down, arms shaking as he stared at the ceiling and practiced breathing, he turned his pillow over to the side that wasn’t wet, and brushed away petals that had collected on his bed while he coughed in his sleep. 

Images rose up against the blackness, Dimitri's blue face, his wide eyes, the choking gasping wheezing-

Felix clapped his hands over his eyes and breathed hard, trying to rein in his emotions. 

it’s not real it’s not real it’s not real it’s not real 

\--but he can feel Dimitri's flesh beneath his fingers, and feel the pain from his chest, and he can picture so vividly in his mind the blood on his hands the the sunlight across Dimitri’s dull eyes...

Felix pressed tighter against his eyes, watching the colors bloom, but that pressure only made him think about- no no no no no no no 

So instead he stood and paced around his room in the darkness, he wanted to move, and normally he would go to the training grounds, but he thinks about meeting Dimitri there, thinks about.... thinks about......

There’s this tightness in his chest that he can’t seem to let go of, he buried his face in his hands and kept pacing, trying to silence the thoughts inside his head. He coughed, and then couldn’t stop, awful ugly hacking, like he might retch if he had had anything to eat last night. As Felix squeezed his eyes shut he realized he could hear his heartbeat, fast and out of control.

He grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled, trying to snap out of it, it’s not real stop freaking out it’s not real it’s not real your better than this you’re better than this 

He thinks about Dimitri’s skin under his hands and his blue blue eyes and and--

Felix took a deep breath and it hitched, he covered his face with his hands and just sat and breathed for moment. Once his heartbeat had faded from his ears he pulled petals from his mouth and rubbed his eyes. He made the decision in that moment; he would go look for Dimitri. Felix would find Dimitri, see that he was safe, and then he wouldn’t be plagued by these thoughts anymore.

Felix pulled on a coat and quickly fled his dark room. Panic seemed to well up from the floorboards there, nightmares rising to choke him out. The night sky was a friendlier apparition, wide and dark, Felix felt a little better under it’s embrace than in the suffocating hold of his bedroom. 

As he walked the stones beneath his feet were familiar, bespeaking of a ritual months old by now, but anxieties still rose through Felix’s mind, would Dimitri even be there? Felix realized that he didn’t know, he didn’t have any way to know where Dimitri would be, he didn’t even know where the man slept, considering it certainly wasn’t in his old room. 

By the time he approached the training grounds he felt like eons had passed, he pushed open to doors to hear the sound of thwacking wood. Relief rushes through him, making him dizzy, and Felix felt the edge of mortification for being so worried over a trivial thing. 

Dimitri stopped to look up at him, and he locked eyes with Felix across the gloom. He must have seen something in Felix’s expression, because he moved forward and met Felix halfway. 

Felix grabbed Dimitri by his cloak, pulling him forward and holding his face to study it. Dimitri looked bewildered, but unharmed, and Felix turned his head and inspected his neck, finding it pale and untouched.

He dropped a hand, and ghosted his fingers over Dimitri’s throat. he swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing, and said “Felix?” 

Felix felt the vibrations across his skin; alive.He raised his eyes to meet Dimitri’s. blue and clear and worried, concern struck through his eye and across his brow so purely and succinctly Felix felt an acute tug in his heart. Dimitri was alive, but the anxiety wasn’t entirely soothed. Felix thought of his past injury, and how close he had been to losing Dimitri so many times. 

Dimitri watched his expression for another moment, and one of his hands came up to rest of Felix’s chest, “Did something happen?”

Felix abruptly turned away, “It’s nothing.”

“Do you want to spar??”

“No.” Felix said, continuing to walk out of the training grounds. He had to get away, put his thoughts in order and ignore Dimitri’s beautiful hands and clear eyes and deep voice. 

Felix sat on the bench outside the training grounds and tilted his head back, closing his eyes. The night air was cool, and he was glad to have brought his jacket once the adrenaline had worn off. Being afraid of losing Dimitri wasn’t new for him. He had known that reckless man nearly his entire life, and had had plenty of close calls. He thought he had lost Dimitri with his brother once, he hadn’t recognized the boy across the battlefield, covered in blood, and so of course that must have meant the boar had killed Dimitri. 

And what he really was, was scared. Too scared to acknowledge an unseemly faucet of Dimitri’s personage. It was easier to believe Dimitri was dead, and not simply suffering without Felix’s knowledge. It was obvious then, the wailing in the night, the mantra of avenging the dead, and it was obvious now; The way his eye looked just behind you, like he was watching someone else, the spaciness of his thoughts, the nightmares that kept him here, just like Felix.

Felix didn’t want to leave Dimitri to suffer anymore. He had believed him lost for years after his ‘execution’ in Fhirdidad, and now that he was alive, Felix had already tried abandoning him, and that didn’t make anyone better. Perhaps he should try standing by Dimitri instead. 

He heard the rustle of fabric disturb the quiet of the night, and was unsurprised to open his eyes and see Dimitri standing above him. He sat beside Felix and sighed deeply, turning his gaze skyward to the stars. 

They sat there for a couple minutes of silence before Felix broke it.

“I dreamed you had died.”

Dimitri smiled ruefully, “That wouldn’t be so bad a fate.”

“Shut up.”

He sighed, “I’m sorry, it’s just… I spent so long wishing for death, that it’s more comfortable than living at this rate. I spent every one of those last five years hoping, praying, that it would be my last. And now I’m still here, with people to help me, rely on me, serve me. It’s almost too much, I will do it, the people of Faerghus need the heir…. But I worry if I’m truly capable of leadership. 

Felix was quiet. He didn’t know what to say, he never had the right words for a situation, never had the perfect solution. 

Dimitri turned to look at him, expression soft and sad, “You should have killed me when you first found me, put me out of my misery,”

Felix felt his heart twist, “Shut up, Dimitri, you know I couldn’t have done that. I don’t really…” 

Felix didn’t finish his words, but he hoped that Dimitri still understood. 

“What if I can’t do this, Felix?”

“Goddess, listen to you, there’s a reason we’re all here, we believe in you, Dimitri. I believe in you, and even if you do mess up, I’ll be right beside you to correct your path.” Felix ran a hand through his hair, “You’re, listen to me, you’re not a disappointment, and you won’t disappoint Faerghus.”

Dimitri smiled self deprecatingly, he looked sadder than Felix had seen him in a long time, and it made his heart ache. “I disappoint you constantly. I’m disappointing you right now by having these thoughts.” he said softly. 

Felix stared at him for a moment, studying the soft gleam of darkness cloaking his face, the great overcloak sweeping away and warping his figure. Dimtiri looked so far away, and Felix had the urge to be closer, to touch him. So he scooted closer across the bench, and held his hand out. Felix could live with the mortification of being known if it helped Dimitri survive the night. 

After a moment of deliberation, Dimitri slowly placed his hand in Felix’s. He was cool to the touch, and Felix rested their hands in his lap, gently tracing patterns into the top of Dimitri’s hand with his other. “I can't pretend I know what to say to make you feel better, but know this: I'm not going to leave your side. Maybe one day all the bullshit in your head will quiet down, maybe not, but it doesn’t matter to me. I'm never going to give up on you, you hear? 

“After you went missing I spent a long time thinking about how I had treated you.... I won’t lie, you scared me, I thought you had died, been replaced by a monster... but despite my father’s word I had believed you executed. I was.... Distraught.”

“Really now?”

“Shut up! I'm trying to be nice to you. I regretted it, every word. I can't say it’s not what I believed, and that I wasn’t afraid of you, but we were just children. You were just a child, and nobody should be expected to bear the burden of the tragedy, especially not..... with how you are. I had my father’s support, even if I hated what he said. And you.. .were abandoned.” 

Dimitri is quiet, busy watching their clasped hands, and so Felix continues, trying not to think about the warm fondness twisting in his heart, trying not to think about how badly he wants to lean forward into Dimitri’s space. 

“Tell me about them.”

Dimitri blinks, “What?”

“The... ghosts... you always said you were haunted, and I never listened. Well, now I’m listening.” 

Dimitri averted his eyes, “You don’t want to hear about that.” 

Felix squeezed his hand, “I asked, didn’t I?”

Dimitri watched him quietly for a moment. Felix didn’t know what he was looking for, but he met his gaze all the same.

“They’re… usually voices. Of my father, my step-mother, Glenn, servants, friends, all those who perished in the tragedy. I hear.. Rodrigue too, amongst others. Often, they seek revenge for their deaths, sometimes they only seek to be cruel to me. I see them sometimes too, hands, faces, lingering over shoulders, hands grasping for me. They pull my hair, scratch my skin…. Generally torment me. But…” and he says this with some difficulty, “I know they’re not real. I used to not, but when I saw Dedue alive… well he had been haunting me. That’s when I realized I had truly gone mad.” 

“I see,” 

“That’s how I lost the eye, I thought I would stop seeing if I… I pulled it out myself, it didn’t hurt nearly as much as I thought it would, but the infection nearly killed me.” Dimitri smiled again, twisted and sad, but Felix felt sick. 

Felix’s chest hurts thinking about it, and he coughed hard, tasting bitter and iron. When he opened his eyes Dimitri was watching him, soft, concerned, adoring, it made somehting twist inside him and he tried for a sharp retort but found nothing there but upset curling in his head and filling his heart. 

“Are you okay?”

“I always am”

“ You don't have to be”

Dimitri really was pretty in the moonlight, dark and shadowed, his blond hair looked slivery, and normally icy eyes were a deep ocean. His hand was cool in Felix’s, and Felix wanted to kiss him so badly his heart ached in time with his chest. 

“We should get to bed, Mitya,” he said softly.

Dimitri nodded slowly, and then, “Can I ask you something foolish and selfish?”

“Okay.”

“Will you hold me?”

Felix feels his chest pull tightly and he opens his arms. Dimitri leans forward, he's so much taller than Felix, and drapes forward awkwardly, head resting on his shoulder and arms curled around his middle, the fur on his massive overcloak tickles Felix’s nose, and it smells like fire and earth and Dimitri. He’s warm, everything about him is, the breath on Felix’s neck, the chest beneath his arms, the awkward pressed of the cloak in Felix’s arms. 

“Thank you Felix,” he mumbled, “for putting up with me, with my madness.”

Felix raised a hand to stroke his hair, “You really are foolish, Mitya, I wouldn't be here if you were a bother.”

Dimitri sighed shakily into his shoulder, and squeezed him tighter, it was almost painful, but Felix said nothing, simply stroked Dimitri’s hair. After a moment Felix realized Dimitri crying.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, “ -I,”

Dimitri began to pull away, but Felix pressed his head back down again, “You can cry, it’s okay, I'm not going anywhere.”

And so Dimitri cried, he did so quietly, cut off and choked back, like he was expecting to be interrupted any minute. It was a behavior learned to hide his true emotions, to hide in the wild and the court alike, and it makes Felix’s heart ache to realize. 

After a couple minutes of muted sobs Dimitri quiets, and pulls back. His pale face is red and puffy, and Felix gently wipes a tear from his eye.

“We really should get to bed if we plan to be any use tomorrow.” Felix said softly

Dimitri averted his eye and tightened his grip on Felix, “I don’t……..I don’t want you to go….”

His voice is hoarse, cracked a little, and there's snot running down his face, normally Felix would it nasty, but now it just makes his heart bleed a little more. 

Despite the anxiety running through him at the thought of Dimitri in his bed, he finds he likes the idea of it. His dreams weren’t real, however vivid they seemed, and Dimitri was asking, this was something he wanted.

“Then come with me,” Felix whispers, and Dimitri smiles at him relievedly.

In his room, Dimitri drops his overcloak to the floor and isn’t shy when he pulls Felix close, wrapping an arm around him and resting his chin atop Felix’s head. It’s warm, and Felix’s cheeks burn at the proximity, but it’s also comforting. Dimitri is warm, and Felix feels safe in his grasp.

Later that night when Felix awakes with a start, there’s a voice mumbling in his hear and hands petting his hair, and despite being a little hot, Felix can’t find it in himself to be cross as he folded in closer towards Dimitri and listened to his slow breathing. 

——

Retaking Fhirdiad was no small accomplishment, and so Felix knew why the army celebrated, he understood the people’s celebration even more; finally an end to tyranny.

But that didn’t mean Felix could set aside the creeping sense of doom, the knowledge that the Emperor was still out there. Fearhgus’s reunion would be no small task, and so much work was laid out ahead of them. He couldn’t relax like that, couldn’t drink, and certainly couldn’t party.

So instead Felix found himself perched on the edge of the royal castle’s railing, watching the fog drift through the mountains and the moon’s glow against their snowy peaks. The night air was cool, it brushed his face with a sort of fondness, one he couldn’t help but attribute to a fairer, baser sort of love. 

With the murmur of party behind him, Felix traced the edges of warm firelight where it melted into moonlight; shapes lost their definition in the darkness, it was a familiar thing. Like the warm darkness of a childhood bedroom or soft dim of stargazing in the early morning. 

And then, because the nature of all beautiful things is to be spoiled, a voice ruins the quiet. A familiar, annoying, drunk voice.

“Felliyaaaa!”

Felix doesn’t give the satisfaction of turning to look at Dimitri, but he doesn’t have to, because soon enough Dimitri finds his way to the railing Felix is sitting on. 

“I found you,” and Felix knows he’s truly smashed because he smiles softly when he says it, a dopey stupid drunk smile.

“Great, now I have to find somewhere else to go.”

“Nooooo, don’t go, I just found you.” Dimitri leaned forward over the railing, trying to get Felix to look at him. A few inches away he could smell the wine on his breath. Felix wrinkled his nose, ugh, annoying.

Dimitri leaned further, hands scrambling at stone to support himself, “Feliya, look at me! Feliya, I'm trying to talk to you.” 

Felix sighed and grabbed the back of Dimitri’s cloak, “Careful idiot, you’ll fall.”

Dimitri let himself be pulled but then he continued with the momentum and leaned against Felix’s shoulder. Felix started as he landed heavily, Dimitri was warm and fit uncomfortably on the angle of his shoulder bone.

“Get off,” Felix grunted, “don’t slobber on me”

Dimitri mumbled something unintelligible and crowded closer, shifting so that his head fit in the crook of Felix’s shoulder and he clumsily wrapped an arm around Felix’s middle. Felix wobbled a little precariously on the ledge, putting his hands out to counter balance Dimitri’s weight. 

“If you are going to slobber all over me the least you can do is not push me off a wall.” he huffed. 

Felix swung his legs around the railing, dislodging Dimitri as he did so. Dimitri whined as he lightly jumped off the railing, “Felixxxxx.” 

“Come on you stupid boar, don’t whine.”

Felix walked over to one of the benches lining the walkway of the castle rampart, and grabbed Dimitri’s shoulders guiding him forward and pressing him down into the seat. Dimitri sat there for a moment blinking, after a moment he glanced beside him, and then up at Felix. 

Felix sighed again as Dimitri patted the space on the bench beside him. 

“So needy,” He chastised, but he sat down anyways. Dimitri immediately shifted, bending to lay his head in Felix’s lap.

Felix stiffened again, panic laced through him as Dimitri’s weight settled on his thighs and sighed softly. Felix felt a pressure in his chest, pushing and pulling and tugging and throwing, he covered his mouth to cough, but it doesn’t come as strongly as he expected. 

“Feliya, why weren’t you at the party..?” Dimitri mumbled, his eyes were blurry, and his voice was a touch high.

“You know I don’t like parties.”

“But I missed you.” 

Felix couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed with Dimitri, and every time he tried to draw on ire Dimitri’s blue eyes or cold fingers caught his attention and made fondness blossom in his heart. He laid a hand on Dimitri’s head, and he leaned into it. Felix ran a hand through Dimitri’s hair, and listened to his soft sigh. Part of him buzzed with nerves, but another part, the part that ached to touch him again, spurred him on. He had wanted to touch Dimitri’s hair again ever since he had the very first time. He had wanted to touch Dimitri all the time actually, ever since the very first time. 

“You’re really smashed, huh? Pathetic.” but Felix still stroked Dimitri’s hair, watching his relaxed face and flickering eyes. 

Dimitri bearily shook his head, “I’m not drunk.” 

“Mhm,” Felix hummed, tucking a bit of hair behind his ear. Dimitri twisted so he was lying more comfortably on the bench. 

There was quiet for a moment, and Felix almost thought Dimitri had fallen asleep, he tried to be annoyed but that curling twisting emotion in his heart was warm and drew his lips into a smile. 

“Feliya?” Dimitri murmured,

“Mmhm?”

“I like you when you’re nice to me.”

“Nice? Is that what I am right now?”

He nodded, “You’re twice as beautiful when you aren’t scowling”

Felix choked, “Excuse me?”

Dimitri opened his eyes and smiled, “You’re more beautiful when you’re nice to me and I can watch you smile.”

Felix felt his cheeks warm, he covered Dimitri's face with his hands and Dimitri let out a cry of displeasure. “Be silent, boar.”

Dimitri fumbled at Felix’s hands for a moment, once he got his grip around one he pulled it down to his mouth, and pressed a kiss into it. 

Felix felt like he was going to combust, he realized suddenly what was curling in his chest; happiness. The thought made him feel warm, and Dimitri laughed at him breathlessly. He sloppily raised a hand to push it against Felix’s face, “See? So pretty.”

“I'm going to dump you in the gutter.”

Dimitri laughed, and then dropped his hands back to his chest, closing his eyes contently.

“Feliya?” he asked after a moment, 

“Yes, Mitya?”

“I love it when you’re nice to me.”

“You already told me, stupid. besides, I'm hoping that you’ll forget all of this by tomorrow.”

“I won't forget,”

“Of course not.” 

Felix placed his hands back in Dimitri's hair and gently ran his fingers through it as Dimitri closed his eyes. 

He was beautiful in the moonlight, silvery and pale, the color of ice. He looked like the snow surrounding the city, and in the moment Felix could almost believe Dimitri had sprung from the snow fully formed, a nymph of the winter air. 

Felix’s mind wandered to previous times he had touched Dimitri familiarly, and there’s a corresponding pull in his heart when he thinks about running his hands through his hair, waking up next to him, pressing kisses into his neck. Dimitri’s hair was loose now, and Felix’s fingers itched to tie it up, even though it would be ruined while he slept. He realized that he itched to touch Dimitri regardless of where and how. He wanted to braid his hair, hold his hand, kiss him senseless and sleep with Dimitri’s body pressed next to his. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, gently pulling out a small knot in Dimitri’s hair, “You know I’m so happy to see you get better, yeah?” 

There was no response besides Dimitri’s slow breathing, and Felix realized he had fallen asleep. 

He sighed deeply, “I can’t believe I care so much about an idiot like you.” 

Felix let him rest for another few moments, simply watching his breathe softly, before he gently shook him awake.

“Come on, Mitya, you can't sleep out here.” 

Felix pushed Dimitri into a sitting position, and then stood up, stretching his back. 

Dimitri stood up with a wobble, “Can I sleep with you?”

“Don’t you have your own bed?”

Dimitri sighed, a pout coloring the edge,”But I wanna stay with you,”

“Then I’m walking,” Felix broke away and smiled as he heard Dimitri hurry behind him. Dimitri latched onto his arm and Felix lets him, lifting his elbow slightly so he would have a better grip.

——

Across from him, Dimitri wielded a lance. It was one that had been previously broken, but after Dimitri had begun fixing them, the dwindling supply of practice weapons was quickly remedied. 

Felix made the first move, a feint, but Dimitri didn’t fall for it, instead moving to block his true strike. Their weapons met for a moment, and then separated, following wide arcs away from their enemies and back into a defensive position.

Felix blocked an overhead strike from Dimitri, he tilted his blade and pushed away Dimitri’s lance, trying to move in for a finishing blow, but Dimitri quickly retreated. 

Felix moved back too, and they went back to circling each other, carefully watching for the shift of a foot, the twitch of a hand, the sharp uptake of a breath. 

This time Dimitri moved forward with a wide sweep that caused Felix to jump back, and another that made his back hit a pillar. 

He quickly rose his blade to counter, but the dull metal of the lance tip beat him to it, tapping against his throat.

Dimitri leaned in closer, as if Felix hadn’t already got the message that he had been beat. 

Felix glanced up to scowl, but one look at Dimitri’s blue blue eyes made him feel light headed. Dimitri smiled faintly at him, it was such a striking change from before, when he would scowl and growl and fight tooth and nail. 

Now his form was new, an amalgamation of technique, but a well developed one. Dimitri moved like a foreign dancer, odd angles and twisting movements, he was graceful like one too, and that raw strength was hidden in the contact of his blows.Felix was proud of him, and had almost said as much before his brain had caught up to his heart. 

And now that beauty is apparent in his pale skin and his winter eyes, in his long hair and his crooked smile. 

“Felix?” he said, and Felix broke from his reverie to realize they’re still so close together. 

“Yes?” he asked, feeling a little breathless.

“If this is wrong, please stop me.”

“what-?” but he was quickly cut off as Dimitri leaned forward and pressed their lips together. 

He was warm and hesitant, Dimitri kissed like a beginner, stiff and overthinking every movement. It was so incredibly endearing that Felix felt a little dizzy, and as he reached up to hold Dimitri’s face, tilted their heads to fit their lips more securely, Dimitri sighed softly, and tangled his hands in Felix’s hair.

It was so incredibly warm and perfect and homely and safe that Felix realized it was silly to ignore this for so long. He wanted Dimitri, for good or bad, sick or well, and he hoped he could convey that as he pulled Dimitri closer, biting his lower lip and pushing his tongue into Dimitri’s mouth.

Dimitri made a small sound in the back of his throat, and a possessiveness washed over Felix, this could be his, every sound Dimitri made and every brush of his hands on skin, could be something that belonged to him. Something only between the two of them. It was intoxicating, and he wanted every piece of Dimitri. 

Dimitri pulled the tie out of his hair and it cascaded down Felix’s shoulders, Dimitri grabbed a handful and pulled, and Felix gasped into his mouth as pleasurable pain raced through his nerves. 

After another moment Dimitri pulled away, using Felix’s hair as a handle to keep them apart. Felix breathed hard, taking a moment to refocus, but it was difficult with Dimitri’s hands in his hair and lips right above him.

“I’m in love with you,” Dimitri breathed, and Felix’s entire world stops and starts again, “I’ve been in love with you for ages, I just haven’t known how to say it.”

Felix closed his eyes, feeling foolished and flushed, “You’re so sappy,” 

“It’s true! I want- I want to stay by you forever, I want to train with you until we’re old, I want to win this war with you by my side and when I’m coronated, I want you to be right there by my side.”

Felix opened his eyes, feeling overwhelmed and smitten and so light headed all at once, “I’m not a queen, stupid.”

“You could be mine.” Dimitri breathed, smiling hesitantly. 

Despite himself Felix laughed, thick and relieved, “Come here,” he said, and he pulled Dimitri close again, pressing kisses across his jaw and lips and neck. Dimitri laughed too, light and joyful. 

“What do you say, Felix? Will you let me stay by your side?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He mumbled into Dimitri’s neck, “I already promised I would.”

Dimitri laughed again, and Felix felt his heart lift with the sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its done! Hallelujah! 
> 
> jk jk, this fic was just so hard for me to finish haha. It's been going for about a month and a half. I wanted to talk a bit about my usage of Hanahaki. in _ (breathe easy) _ robin suffered because he believed chrom did not love him back, in this fic, felix suffers because he refuses to allow himself to love dimitri. i played around a lot with portraying their relationship, and ultimately decided to capitalize on felix's issues with everyone close to him in his life; spefeically his understanding of others. felix struggles between wanting to love someone and being upset wit them because he can't understand the full scope of their actions. we see this both with dimitri's schizophrenia and rodrigue's grief over glenn, hes quick to label people bc he seeks to draw the divide between his fears and his loves, not realizing they directly impact the other. __
> 
> _  
_anyways, i wanted to say THANK YOU SO MUCH for reading! i'm so happy that you guys decided to read this hunk o text, i havent written so much since my last hanahaki fic, suppose its fate. have a nice night, and a nice rest of your week :)_  
_


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